The Lodestone Read Online Free Page A

lead.
    The subject of Cleome and her delinquent mare was not discussed straightaway, and Drake was content to let his hosts direct the conversation in spite of his curiosity. It was not until Garnett paid him a compliment on his own horse that Drake was inclined to bring it up.
    “He is a handsome beast,” Garnett said. “Is he as fast as he looks?”
    “I thought, until today, that his speed could not be equaled.”
    “You found someone in the forest to race?” Lady Easton asked, beaming at Drake. “How exciting!”
    “It was not intended to be a race,” Drake replied with a smile. “A young woman on horseback dropped her bonnet at my feet. I was simply trying to return it. That’s what brought me to your hospitable door, milady.”
    “Upon my word!” Garnett exclaimed. “Cleome’s horse beat your own. Indeed!”
    Lord Easton’s complexion took on a purple hue. “But of course, sir,” he said. “She must have had a good start over your horse. ’Tis unthinkable that the colt of a plow mare can better a thoroughbred.”
    Drake shook his head. “My Prince Talleyrand closed the distance between us to only a length or so at least twice, but the colt pulled away as if chased by the devil himself. He is the fastest beast I have ever seen. Have you an idea of his age?”
    “He should be . . . oh, almost two years old by now, eh, Father?” Garnett asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
    “I’ll not have it!” the old laird spluttered, and Garnett exploded in laughter as did his mother. Lord Easton was then compelled by good manners to explain the joke to their guest by relating the history of Molly’s scandalous behavior. “But it is impossible, sir,” he finished. “Cleome’s colt could not be a racing champion.”
    “Do you suppose her grandfather would consider selling him?” Drake asked as Lady Elizabeth poured him another cup of tea, leaning toward him a little more than necessary to better display her enticing bosom.
    “As I understand it, Mr. Stoneham,” Sir Laurence answered, “Desmond has given the colt to his granddaughter. He’s the owner of the Eagle’s Head Inn, and it brings him a good living. Though all this talk about connecting railroads from coast to coast could change that in the next few years.” He sniffed scornfully, as if William Desmond’s affluence was a personal affront. “There’s certainly no economic necessity for him to sell the colt, and I doubt the girl would want to part with it for any sum.”
    “She did seem determined to ensure the safety of the mare,” Drake replied. He warmed at the mention of Cleome, the memory of her pretty mouth, and the way her color heightened when he spoke to her.
    “The best way for you to procure the colt would be a game of cribbage with old Desmond,” Garnett advised Drake. “He cannot resist the game.”
    “But if the colt belongs to the lass,” Drake began, only to be cut off by Lord Easton.
    “In name only. Not by law, of course. And my son is correct. Desmond is hard put to resist a wager—of any kind.”
    “I’ve often wondered how Cleome has fared since the death of her genteel Grandmamma,” mused Lady Easton, skillfully drawing their attention again.
    “My dear, you should see her,” said Garnett. “She has such natural beauty. She makes those two shameless maidens at Fox Hall look ridiculous with their powders and paints.”
    “I advise you to watch your tongue, Garnett,” Lord Easton spoke severely, his perturbation at his son’s continued interest in Cleome evidenced by the warning tone in his voice as well as his eloquence. “Those two shameless maidens, as you so blithely put it, are not only ladies of breeding and manners, they are the daughters of my closest friend. Sir Rudgely Foxworth has achieved the noble estate of knighthood, and he lives a decent Christian life. The mysterious man who so carelessly sired this person you praise to the heavens has never seen fit to recognize her birth. I have